Friday, December 22, 2017

'Tis the Season

For snotty children and Christmas concerts, that is.

Yes, all four of my children are hacking like lifelong smokers and dripping at the nose. Mucous season has definitely arrived*.

On the cheerier side, we got to go to the school today to watch Charlie sing "The Reindeer Hokey Pokey." He didn't look quite as enthused as the rest of his classmates, but at least he went through the motions.

Cubby's group sang "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree," complete with hand motions that included pretending to punch themselves on the line "Deck the halls with boughs of holly." Get it? So charming.

We bolted immediately after Cubby's performance, due to a toddler and a baby who were exhibiting signs of imminent meltdown. Thank goodness the concert starts with the youngest ones and ends with the oldest, so we only had to corral Jack and Poppy for half of it.

It's currently snowing, and we're supposed to get anywhere from six to twelve inches. White Christmases are definitely not in question here, at least.

I forgot to get office supplies for the children's stockings this year, but I did get some small bags of Doritos, so I think we can be sure of a merry Christmas.

How's your holiday preparedness level, my lovelies?

* This morning at 4:30, when I was up with Poppy for the third time, I was singing in my head a version of  "All I Want for Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth" that went, "All I want for Christmas is a full night's sleep." Four-thirty a.m. is a fun time to be in my head.

Wednesday, December 20, 2017

Going Public

I was about to send my parents an e-mail with some photos attached of various gifts they've given us that have been used for the first time. But then I thought, why not make it into a post? Because you know, photos are very convenient fodder for a post that does not require brain power I do not have these days.

So! Without further ado, we have . . .

Jack using his birthday apron to do dishes:

Real men wash dishes. Remember that, son.

And these fantastic cocktail glasses they gave us for our second wedding that have our names and the date of the ceremony on them:

My parents own several glasses like this, and I didn't know I always wanted one until they gave me one. (Those are Sidecars in there, incidentally.)

The reason we had those drinks was because we went to get our Christmas tree on Saturday. Because we live on a Christmas tree farm, that meant we walked 200 yards down the road with a saw.

See that house behind the trees? That's our house. I was standing next to our tree in the field when I took the photo.

The getting of the tree didn't result in drinking. It was more the fact that I flooded the floor under the tree when I was trying to put water in the stand, and then A. had to lift the already-decorated tree so we could clean it up, which meant there were ornaments falling and children shrieking and a baby crying and . . .

Well. It was a classic Small Children Christmas memory.

I also had a photo of Poppy wearing an absolutely adorable wool sweater and pants set that my parents gave her, but I seem to have deleted it when I was messing around with the photos. I did still have this photo, though:

She looked kind of like this during the Christmas tree fiasco, actually.

So there you have it! An e-mail to my parents that has become a full-length post for the enjoyment of the masses. You are most welcome.

Monday, December 18, 2017

Three (and Two Months)

Happy birthday to 
the effervescent Jack. 
(And happy two-month birthday to the deeply skeptical Poppy.)